


Hopelessly Devoted To You

by nhasablog



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: First Love, Fluff, M/M, Secret Crush, Tickling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-18
Updated: 2016-08-18
Packaged: 2018-08-09 13:56:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7804459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nhasablog/pseuds/nhasablog
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There was only so much a 16 year old could handle, and realizing he was in love with his male best friend wasn’t on the list.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hopelessly Devoted To You

**Author's Note:**

> I've been on writing hiatus for almost two months, but now I'm sorta back I think. I hope you like this!

Steve wasn’t usually one to ignore tough situations in hopes that they would cease existing by themselves. That was the result of years of poverty and bad health. He’d grown up learning to deal with hardships, even if sometimes you couldn’t do anything about them other than pray things would get easier. But that didn’t equal ignoring. Sometimes you couldn’t actively try to change things, but Steve never pretended that something wasn’t happening, because that would only make things worse in the long run. Ignorance wasn’t always bliss.

Now, however, he wished he could go back to not having a clue about what was going on with him. There was only so much a 16 year old could handle, and realizing he was in love with his male best friend wasn’t on the list.

The realization had been creeping up on him for months, but it was only when he and Bucky had been curled up in Steve’s bed after the power had been cut off again that Steve had been hit with the truth. Having that sort of epiphany while sharing body heat with the person in question was bound to freak anyone out, but Steve was proud over the fact that he’d managed to keep up a normal facade for most of the time. He didn’t doubt that Bucky had been aware of the hopefully subtle change, but he didn’t bring it up. Steve was grateful for that.

Something Steve _wasn’t_ grateful for was that his mind refused to focus on anything else once he’d come to terms with it all. He knew this wouldn’t go away anytime soon, but he also knew that nothing would come out of it, so to have every single thought revolve around this useless crush was excruciating and unnecessary. Anything Bucky did or said kept playing in Steve’s head until there was nothing but Bucky, Bucky, Bucky; as if nothing else really mattered in Steve’s life.

He wasn’t very surprised when he realized that nothing else really _did_ (except for his mother).

Being around Bucky became harder after that night. Not because Bucky was being more amazing than usual. No. It was hard because Steve was suddenly very much aware of just how amazing his best friend was. He couldn’t stare and then later avoid Bucky’s gaze forever, because it was bound to make people suspicious. It was bound to make _Bucky_ suspicious.

Steve wasn’t sure if he wanted to laugh or cry, but when Bucky forced his jacket into Steve’s frozen, trembling hands he accepted it without another word; wondering if the thought of smelling like his friend had always made him weak.

“Oh, stop pouting. You’re gonna thank me later when the cold isn’t getting to your brain,” Bucky said, rolling his eyes.

Steve huffed, but wrapped the garment around himself; pretending that he wasn’t feeling better already.

The sun was setting even though it wasn’t that late, but the lights of their neighborhood kept their path lit up and they shuffled homewards without much difficulty. Bucky was wearing his thickest sweater, which was the only reason Steve let him dispose his jacket for Steve’s sake. He’d always been smaller and less healthy than Bucky, so they both knew he needed the jacket more, but Steve didn’t feel any better because of that. He buried his hands in the pockets to hide them from the cold anyway, because if he got sick after tonight Bucky was sure to kill him. He didn’t want to die just yet.

“So,” Bucky started, dragging out the word. “You doing okay? I mean has anything happened that I don’t know about?”

Steve flushed and thanked God for the chilly wind for the first time that day. “What do you mean?” he asked, trying to keep his voice steady and slow.

Bucky shrugged. “You just seem…different.”

“In a bad way?”

“Not necessarily.”

“But do you like that I seem different?”

“I don’t like not knowing what’s going on, s’all.”

Bucky was the one staring at the ground as they walked now; frowning in a way Steve didn’t think suited him. How he managed to still look good was a mystery.

“I mean, I understand that sometimes you gotta keep things to yourself,” Bucky continued, looking up and catching his eye. “So don’t feel pressured to tell me. I just want to know that you’re okay.”

“I’m okay.” Steve assured him.

Bucky’s gaze was intense. “You sure?”

It took everything in Steve not to look away. “I’m sure.”

“Good.” Bucky smiled and the whole world exploded. Or maybe it was just Steve’s chest. “I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

Steve hadn’t realized they’d reached his building, and the notion of being apart stung more than he would’ve liked to admit. He couldn’t help but to smile back though. One couldn’t have James Buchanan Barnes’ grin directed toward them and not grin back.

He was so busy thinking of Bucky’s hand on his shoulder that he’d reached his front door before he realized he was still wearing the jacket. By the time he’d rushed downstairs Bucky was nowhere to be seen, so Steve did the sensible thing and hung Bucky’s jacket on a chair in his bedroom; far enough to seem casual, but close enough to be a reminder of the best friend he’d ever had.

He was so certain he would lose said friend if he ever uttered a single word about how he was feeling, and the thought left his stomach in so many knots that he woke up feeling as if someone had punched him repeatedly all over. He was forced to stay home in bed that day, so Bucky ended up scolding him for not having brought a thicker jacket with him the night before anyway, but at least he didn’t kill him as Steve had feared. He couldn’t count on his fears not becoming true forever though, so that thought didn’t really comfort him.

“You’re a punk,” Bucky said as he settled down at the foot of Steve’s bed. “Why don’t you ever listen to me?”

“I’m not _sick_ , Buck. I just don’t feel my best.”

“Meaning you’re sick.”

“No, I just-”

“You’re sick.”

Steve let out a frustrated sigh. “Leave me alone.”

Bucky recognized his victory and grinned in triumph. “Now that that’s settled, wanna hear about my day?”

Of course Steve did. He didn’t even need to ask in the first place.

Hours later found Bucky lying next to Steve as they traded stories, and normally Steve wouldn’t be freaking out about the proximity, but now he was, and it made it really hard to act like everything was all fine and dandy.

“Steve, are you okay?”

Steve forced himself to turn his head to meet his friend’s gaze. “Yes, of course. Why do you ask?”

“You’re so still. Does anything hurt?”

Something always hurt, but he’d gotten so used to it that it rarely bothered him in any obvious way. “Not really.”

“Are you tired?”

“Not really.”

“Then what’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

Bucky gave him that look that told Steve that he knew he was lying. “You know what you need? A good ol’ cup of laughter.”

Steve’s body reacted automatically before the meaning of those words had even fully registered. Hands flying up to push Bucky’s advancing ones away was as far as he got though, because Bucky knew this game better than anyone and knew exactly what Steve’s initial movements would be, and responded by evading them before going for Steve’s rib cage.

Steve’s laughter rung in the small room instantly.

This was how it started: Years ago, when Steve had been even smaller than he was now, Bucky had made what he always referred to as the best discovery of his life. Said discovery was currently being exploited, and as always Steve was writhing in ticklish agony as Bucky’s fingers performed their memorized dance.

And as always the pleads left his mouth without his consent. “Dohohon’t!”

And as always he could hear Bucky’s grin when he spoke. “But you need this.”

“I dohohon’t!”

“But you dooo.”

He probably did, but he wasn’t going to admit it.

Steve squirmed on the bed as Bucky tickle tortured his sensitive ribs; occasionally scribbling over one of his sides if Steve’s arms blocked his path too much. It was a process they both knew all too well.

In his desperate and pathetic attempts to get away Steve managed to make his own shirt ride up, and it didn’t take long for Bucky’s evil fingers to find their way to the bare skin.

“Not thehehere!”

“Oh, sorry, Steve. Is your tummy too ticklish for this?”

It was, it was, it was, and Bucky just kept tickling and tickling and tickling, and Steve was very soon on the verge of an asthma attack; something Bucky knew the signs of almost before they even started showing. So, naturally, he backed off, and Steve was left giggling rather than gasping for breath with his lungs burning up.

Steve would never fully get used to how well Bucky knew him.

“Do you feel better now?” Bucky asked, leaning back with a satisfied grin.

“You can be so mean sometimes.”

“Oh, really? Let’s see.” Bucky started counting on his fingers. “Coming over and spending the afternoon with you so that you won’t get bored out of your mind. Making sure you’re entertained by telling you stories. Tickling you so that you feel better. You’re right. I’m awful.”

Steve gave his shoulder a shove. “Show off.”

“If proving how good of a friend I am means I’m showing off.”

“It does.”

“Then I’m a show off.”

“An awful one.”

“Don’t make me tickle you again.” Bucky wiggled his fingers in the air, making Steve smile helplessly. “Then again, that’s not really a threat, is it?”

Steve groaned. “God, stop being _mean_.”

Bucky barked out a laugh. “Can’t help it. You always get flustered and it’s adorable.”

Steve turned his head away in order to somewhat hide his burning face, but he was sure Bucky wasn’t fooled in the slightest. “Shut up.”

Bucky seemed to ignore him. “Actually, you know what I’ve noticed? You seem to get even more flustered lately whenever I’m teasing you. Why’s that?”

In another life, in another world, this would be the moment Steve bared his soul. He would look into Bucky’s eyes and confess it all, and if luck was on his side, which it rarely was, the feelings would be mutual.

But life wasn’t that easy, and Steve wasn’t that brave, so he only shook his head with a forced nonchalance. “No reason.”

“Uh huh.”

“It’s getting quite late, isn’t it?”

“You trying to get rid of me?”

“I’m trying to think of your safety.”

“You think someone’s gonna attack me after dark?”

“You never know.”

“I can always stay the night, if you’re so worried. It wouldn’t be the first time, after all.”

“That’s true.”

So Bucky stayed the night.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [tumblr](http://nhasablog.tumblr.com)


End file.
